Secret Fear or In my blond head
by Startisparticus2017
Summary: The good looking in your head silent type. Starsky is recovering from Gunther's attack and is worried about his partner. Episode related. Thank you to my Beta Reader Sandy and Maryellen for her input. SHFAFF prompt: Secret Fear Note: This is a little different for me...comfort Hutch


STARSKY & HUTCH

Written by: Startisparticus2017

SHFAFF prompt December 2017

 **Secret Fear**

We all have secret fears, and we all think no one knows or understands. Detective Ken Hutchinson has many, but there is one that merely paralyzes him to the brink of not being able to breathe.

It had been several months-no more like a year-of evil and ugly removing hope and diminishing the light at the end of the tunnel. The blond couldn't escape the paranoia of 'what if.'

The mustache and long hair now partially cover the once boyish features that now appear to have lost their luster of yesteryear. The months of worry had weighed his normally tall frame defeating his posture. He sat in his apartment alone. A can of beer before him lay empty and crumbled.

Hutch tugged at his blue and yellow flowered Hawaiian shirt and sat upright. He glanced at the clock, which read 8 pm. He took in a deep cleansing breath and shook his head. The look of defeat shadowed his face as he raised his hands to his chin and rubbed. "What if? For god's sake, Hutchinson, put it to rest. He needs you." He sighed deeply. "No! It's more like I need him. He's been through too much, I can't burden him." The words left his lips whispered.

The loss of Lionel, an informant and close friend of Huggy's, shook the duo to the core which resulted in their quitting the force. They quickly discovered old habits die hard and returned to duty. Hutch involved himself with a lounge singer named Marianne Owen that left him questioning himself and taking 'it' on without his partner. It nearly cost him his own life when her racketeering brother marked him. The blond was in a downward spiral emotionally and physically. Disappointment with the legal system left him with a bad taste. The truth was the only reason he returned to duty was his partner. The memories plagued his mind.

Hutch stood abruptly from the fleeting thoughts that roamed his head and began to pace the room. Raising his arms, he cupped the back of his neck and closed his eyes. "I deliberately hurt you, I pushed you away. Why? This is about us not just me." His voice trailed with empathy and sadness as he opened his eyes and dropped his hands to his side. "I need to talk to him."

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A knock on the door brought the blond back to a conscious state. He briefly paused as though frozen in time. The sound of the second series of knocks prompted him to walk to the door and open it briskly. In the doorway in uniform, was the woman who almost destroyed their partnership, Kira. Her lips pouted, and eyes sparkle with unshed tears.

"I would have been here sooner. How is David? I was undercover in San Francisco, and then off to Los Angeles and Vegas." Her voice trembled as she pushed her way in past the startled blond.

Hutch stood by the door and bowed his head. She was the last person he wanted right now. He reached and slammed the door. "He's home and recovering. I was just leaving; he's waiting for me." His response was stained with unease.

Kira enclosed her presence upon the tall uncomfortable blond and ran her hand down his arm. His shoulders raised and tensed, his eyes filled with fury. "Kira, I think its best you leave. Don't contact him and stay the hell away from me. Now leave!" His response was fueled with anger. He pulled away from her roughly.

Stunned by his words and action, the former blonde now redhead sucked her bottom lip in as tears made their way down her face. "I love you and David. I care for you both. Let me help for old times sake?"

Hutch turned and went to the door and placed his hand on the knob; he turned to beam his ice blue glare onto Kira. The crease on his forehead was a telltale warning of the Hutchinson no-nonsense temper. He raised his left hand and pointed at her. "Listen, lady, I may have fallen for your poison once, but it's not going to happen a second time. I almost lost someone very important to me not just once, but twice now. Whatever it is you are trying to sell, I don't want it. Now leave." His voice was loud and direct.

The dejected redhead bowed her head and walked to the door that swung open. She stepped through the threshold and turned as Hutch pushed the door shut causing the mirror on the wall to rattle. He ran his right hand through his hair. "What did I ever see in her?" He shook his head. "Something that wasn't real, something that wasn't your partner or your job. Something that you thought would remove you from the 'what ifs' and your secret fear."

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Across town propped in his peacock chair, wearing a sweater, dark blue T-shirt and faded jeans, sat David Starsky. Alive with features much thinner than normal and the dark complexion paler, but his eyes were still vibrant. He tossed the car magazine onto the coffee table. His eyes wandered to the clock on the wall which read 8:30 pm. "Where are ya, Hutch?"

He leaned his head on his right hand as he propped his elbow on the arm of the chair. On the kitchen counter were ten prescription bottles of various sizes. "There's your life, Davey; one pill, two pills, half dozen pills." His left hand unconsciously placed over his chest as he took a labored breath. "James Gunther I hope ya rot in jail."

The effervescence not present as the frail David Starsky slowly and theatrically rose to his feet. He made his way to the counter and looked at the menagerie of mystical pill bottles. "Eenie meanie miny moe, which little bottle do I go for…? What if?"

Recovery had been slow due to infection and pneumonia setbacks. Hutch had been nursing his partner through several long months of hospital stay after the vicious attack at the Bay City PD parking lot that James Gunther had ordered. The once illusive partner had been the brunet's primary caretaker since he returned home less than two weeks ago. Starsky noted the reappearance of the well-known Hutchinson 'in my head' mood and feared the worse.

The brunet crossed his arms over his chest and bowed his head. The smirk he held moments ago disappeared and was replaced with a tight cringe. "Why won't ya talk to me, partner? Will this pain ever stop?"

The door to the apartment opened with a tall, thin frame entering. The light switch clicked to reveal a crimson two-piece suit and swimming in it was Huggy. The thin dark man dropped the grocery bag onto the kitchen table and quickly went to Starsky's side. "Curly, are you trying to get me in trouble with Blondie?" He wrapped the brunets arm around his shoulder and placed an arm around his waist and guided him to a chair near the table.

Starsky perspired heavily as he sat with his arms crossed over his chest. Huggy swaggered to the kitchen to retrieve a glass of water and maneuvered himself amongst the pill bottles like a pharmacist. He handed the pills and glass of water to the weak man before him. The brunet welcomingly popped the pills into his mouth and drank the entire glass of water.

"What the hell were ya doing, my man? I leave for less than an hour and ya manage to get yourself into trouble." The exasperated words bit the air as the thin man placed his hands on his hips.

Starsky took a long deep breath and partially closed one eye and glared at Huggy. "You expect me to take ya seriously in that getup? If ya had a white strip you'd look like my car." The remark was followed by a smirk and snort.

Huggy grabbed the grocery bag and made his way to the kitchen and unpacked. "Bite the hand that feeds ya, dark storm, and ya liable to have to fend for yourself. This happens to be prime crushed velvet and corduroy."

Starsky snorted as he sat back and glanced. "Prime? Maybe for a pimp."

The cabinet closed with a thud, which startled Starsky. Huggy returned to the table and pulled a chair and sat. "I need to get back to the bar. Where's Goldie Locks?"

Starsky shrugged his shoulders, which alarmingly reminded him of his injuries. He gasped and took a deep breath with raised eyebrows. "I was hoping you could answer that, Hug." He glanced at the clock and rubbed his face with his left hand. "I get the feeling he's avoiding me. He refused to talk to me about what happened with Gunther, the hospital. Well, ya know?"

Huggy thought for a moment. He leaned his elbows onto the table and propped his chin on one hand. "You and me both." The thin black fingers played with a small piece of paper on the table. "Give him time, my man. The aftertaste rears its ugly head; ya get my drift? He…we lost you. You died and ya came back. It does somethin' to a man." The rare occasion of emotion slipped the dark thin man's lips.

Starsky nodded in acknowledgment. He could only imagine his partner went through hell sitting at his bedside not knowing if he would survive. He too remembered the times he had to race against the clock to save his best friend during the plague. It was almost too much for one man to handle. A knock upon the door brought him back to the present. Huggy rose to his feet and went to the door; there stood Kira. Starsky turned to see her then turned away. Huggy left the door open and excused himself as he went to the kitchen. Kira walked in and closed the door. "Hey, David, I'm so glad to see you."

Starsky carefully stood and made his way to his peacock chair. "What do you want, Kira?" Although pain emanated from his core, he put up a good front with a wall of steel.

Kira enclosed her presence. "Ken said you were home."

The brunet's eyes met hers, his jaw rigid. "You saw, Hutch?

Kira played with her hair as she cast her shimmering eyes upon the dark curly hair man. "I just left his place. He wasn't in a friendly frame of mind." She smirked. "He told me to leave and to stay away from you. Well, that among other things." A grin formed as she played with her hair.

Starsky rubbed his chest, his shoulders were more rigid and his eyes wild. "You get off on this, don't ya? Whatever he said consider it comes from me too. Now leave."

Kira approached the angry brunet and stood within a foot of him. Huggy swaggered his way into the living area and crossed his arms over his chest. "I believe my dark-haired compadre asked you to leave."

She stood and stared at the frail man she not long ago had in her bed. "It's a shame. Obviously, I'm not welcome." Her voice trembled as she turned and made her way to the door then turned to focus her tear-filled eyes. "I love you, David."

Starsky bowed his head but raised his eyes, which displayed cold hardness. "Love never had anything to do with it, Kira. Hutch and I were a set of chess pieces ya thought ya could manipulate. Check and mate."

She turned and opened the door, walked out, and slammed it shut. Huggy shook his head. "That is one beautiful distracting rattlesnake."

"Yeah, well her venom leaves a long lasting effect." Starsky reached for the phone beside him and dialed. The phone rang and rang. Disappointedly he placed the handset on the cradle. "No arguments-drive me to Hutch's place."

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Hutch sipped on a beer lost in thought. The casualty of three crushed cans of beer lay on the coffee table. The clock on the wall chimed 9:00 pm catching his attention. A rush of guilt clung to his conscience at leaving his partner alone for so long, but he also knew Huggy wouldn't leave until he returned or would be there to check on him.

A soft knock startled the blond from his unstable conscience. He slammed the beer can onto the coffee table and made his way to the door. "Kira, I told you to…" He opened the door to a pale, labored-breathing, perspiring partner. "Starsky? What the hell are you doing here? How did you…"

Starsky dressed in his sweater, jeans and slippers crossed his arms over his chest and coughed. "I was in the neighborhood. Mind if I come in?"

Hutch instinctively grasped his partner's arm. He led him to the couch as the door slammed shut. He rushed to the bathroom and retrieved a wet washcloth and returned. He gently placed the cloth on his partner's face. "Huggy?"

Starsky smirked. "Don't be mad at him. I gave him no choice." He took the cloth from the blond's hand and wiped his face.

Hutch sat on the coffee table in front of his partner. "Starsk, there's a cold stretch going on, and you are out in it soaking wet. You're taking a big risk. You know what the doctor said about getting sick?" His voice was soft; not angry, just concerned.

Starsky played with the cloth tossing it from hand to hand. "It was important, life and death." He raised his eyes to meet worried blue ones.

"Life and death, huh?" Hutch smiled and chuckled. He cupped his hands and leaned onto his elbows.

Starsky wiped his forehead and held the wet cloth in his hand. He raised his eyebrows and sighed heavily. "Yeah, ya see this person I know he gets quiet. He's the tall, good lookin', in-your's-head silent type."

His eyes focused on the man before him. "This former blonde, now redheaded woman wants to mess with him and his friend. Well, his friend took care of her. He told her she's playin' them like a chess game. This particular game has a hot red car, ugly rust bucket, and a customized partner piece. It's a shield with two hands gripped. The partner piece always wins." A smile formed on the brunet's face followed with a wink.

Hutch rubbed his hands together and chuckled. "A customized partner piece?"

Starsky felt this was the opportune moment to have the long-needed talk with his friend and partner. He lightly wiped at the sweat that glimmered at his temple. "He's been quiet, avoiding his friends. A lot has come down on him and I guess everyone's got a breaking point. See, he and his friend share everything; know each other like that back of their own hands. This is the life part!"

Hutch blushed as he bowed his head and closed his eyes. He raised his head. "Starsk, I…"

Starsky continued to manipulate the towel in his hands and interrupted his partner. "The tall, good lookin', in-your-head silent type sometimes forgets he's not alone. That his friend, although down for the count and slightly preoccupied, can still hear him even when he's not speakin'." He set his eyes upon the blond head that bowed before him. "Ya see, there ain't no secrets between them. It may take a little detective work, but they always seem to figure it out together."

Hutch raised his head and sat up; he couldn't look at his friend. His emotions churned within him and brought forth his fears, and reason for his distance and quietness. "So what did his friend come up with, you said something about detective work?"

Starsky wiped his chin gingerly as he raised his eyebrows. "Might I add brilliant detective work?" He smiled. "Well, they always functioned on trust and the me and thee philosophy. They still do, but there have been some detours along their path that have tested their partnership and friendship. The silent one tends to get in his head and forgets that the brilliant one is still there and waiting."

Hutch nodded, his heart weighted. He rubbed the back of his neck. "The brilliant one is extremely observant. I'm assuming this is where the death part comes in, right?"

The towel flowed from one hand to the other. The clarity of the curly dark-haired man's eyes glared at the blond man before him. "Sometimes I think he's psychic, the brilliant one. He told me one of his secret fears-yep losing his best friend and partner." His voice slightly cracked with the thickness that formed in his throat.

Hutch was rubbing his arm and stopped abruptly, his eyes focused on some imaginary object on the couch before him.

Starsky gripped the towel tightly. "What if?" His voice left his lips softly and breathy. "What if the silent in-your-head partner had been shot instead of the brilliant one?" He cleared his throat and swallowed. "What if the brilliant one hadn't found Thomas Callendar in time and his partner died of the plague?" The towel tumbled to the floor. "The tall blond, silent, in-your-head doesn't think his partner and friend knows that he wished he was the one that was shot, that he thinks he failed in protecting his partner." The brunet rubbed his chest with a trembling hand. "The tall blond's greatest fear is loss and never havin' the partnership and friendship he has with the brilliant one. The man he's grown to count on through thick and thin. What if the blonde, now redheaded woman had destroyed them?"

Starsky 's face perspired heavily. His chin quivered. "See, the thing is secret fears ain't so secret because the two of them fear the same thing. What if I lose my partner? What if my partner can't be a cop again? What if another woman comes between them?"

Hutch rushed to his feet and walked to the kitchen. He rubbed his neck aggressively and paced. His partner had this uncanny way of reaching deep inside even though he hated soapy scenes.

Starsky bent forward and retrieved the towel on the floor and wiped his face. He sat staring at the cloth as pain vibrated his chest. "Hutch, I may never return to duty. The thought of you going back out there without me scares me to death. Maybe ego talkin' but I feel better coverin' your butt than someone else."

Hutch looked at the ceiling as though the answer hovered there and then glanced at his partner. "Gordo, you'll return to duty, and you'll be covering my butt. If you don't-but I know you will-we'll do something else. I assure you what happened with Kira won't happen again." Hutch refocused and grabbed his jacket and keys. "Let's go, Buddy. You need to be in bed."

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Hutch lay on his partner's couch wide awake. The moonlit night illuminated the living room area. He rubbed his forehead gently with his fingers. His frustration festered within as he thought about Kira's audacity. He was furious with himself for not snapping out of this funk mood. Starsky shouldn't have had to hunt him down. "You are a real idiot, Hutchinson." His voice a whisper. He clenched his hand into a fist and tapped his forehead several times.

So deep in thought the blond never heard his partner enter the living room. Starsky sat quietly in the peacock chair. "Hey, don't ever call my partner an idiot."

Hutch catapulted from the couch and glared at the figure across from him. He closed his eyes and blinked several times. "Damn, you almost gave me a heart attack. What are you doing up? Are you in pain, Buddy?"

Starsky grinned and scratched his head lightly. "Sorry, I can't sleep, and no I'm not in pain."

Hutch sat down on the couch; the moonlight made his hair almost glow. Silence hung between them for some time. Hutch glanced to meet a set of anxious eyes.

"I'm scared. I screwed up and betrayed you with Kira and almost blew the best thing that ever happened to me. Then I almost lost you to Gunther. " His tall frame appeared to sink into the couch.

Starsky rubbed his chest gently; he bowed his head. "Almost, I'm still here."

Hutch stared out the bright moonlit window, he nodded. "What we have, Starsk is a special once-in-a-lifetime thing, and I'm scared to death of losing it and losing you!" The blond fumbled with his fingers plucking the end of his white T-shirt. "Why I became a cop lost its luster, my badge became dull. We weren't making a difference and we were pushing each other away. I was pushing you away because I thought it would hurt less; if I pushed, stopped caring. When I shoved and betrayed you, it felt like death."

The blond stared ahead as though hypnotized by the light. "I knew I was hurting you, hurting us; and I couldn't stop it. The murders, rapes, the systems failed us, and we weren't making a difference. You took it, stuck with me no matter what I said or did. I was just crawling back out after Kira, then Gunther, three bullets from James Gunther's ordered hit."

Starsky sat back and listened even though he wanted to lunge from the sofa and comfort his blond friend.

Hutch repositioned himself on the couch to sit upright. The stain of revenge and anger molded his features to rigidness. His eyes watery pools of emotions ready to erupt like a volcano. "One minute we are laughing, planning a three-course meal, then metal scraping and gunfire. I couldn't save you; I called your name over and over." His voice trembled.

A quivering right hand raised as though he held a gun, then dropped to his side. The tears that threatened began their descent. "You were on the ground, I froze. I stood there paralyzed. They claimed you coded several times, massive damage. They told me you were going to die."

Silence hung once again. Starsky brushed away a tear that escaped the corner of his left eye. "I'm still here."

Hutch didn't move; the tears flowed without sound. "I had to get who did this to you, to me…us. It all came back Starsk, the hunger for getting the bad guy. I wanted who ordered the hit; I wanted him bad enough to kill." The words left his lips with a quiver to the chin. "If you died, it wasn't going to be for nothing. There was something I could still do, and that is a hunt." He swallowed and pressed his lips together. "I couldn't touch you; all I did was sit there and look at the wires, tubing, and monitors. I was scared to touch you. If I touched you, it would make it real. I know it sounds crazy. I left; I needed to find who hurt you. You coded, you were dead. Dobey didn't need to say it; I knew it, and I needed to get back to you." He raised his head pressed his lips together. "You were a miracle."

Starsky repositioned himself causing some pain. He gasped which broke Hutch from his trance. The blond wiped the tears from his eyes and turned his attention to his partner. "I'll get you something for the pain."

The brunet caught his breath and grasped his partner's hand as he turned to retrieve the medication. Hutch was caught off guard at the strength and grasps his frail friend exhibited. Hutch knelt in front of his partner. Starsky released his grip and touched the side of his friend's face with his fingers. "I'm here, I'm alive, and I don't plan on checking out anytime soon. I honestly don't want to have to train another partner; took me years to shape and mold ya, Blondie." A genuine Starsky grin appeared.

Hutch slapped his partner's knee and shook his head. "You trained me; I don't think so, chump. It took me years to sharpen those Neanderthal moves of yours."

Both men laughed loudly and silenced quickly when Starsky grabbed his chest. Hutch rose to his feet and retrieved a glass of water and medication and extended it to his friend. Starsky took the pills and gulped the water down. Hutch sat on the coffee table before him and smiled.

Starsky's smile disappeared as he took a deep breath. "Do you still want to be a cop?"

Hutch looked away from his partner momentarily as guilt overtook the moment. He met determined blue eyes that shimmered in the moonlight. "Yes, more than ever. The Gunther bust reinstated my faith in making a difference."

Starsky leaned forward and he smirked. "So do I, Pal. Your 'secret fear' is no longer a secret. Stop feeling guilty for wanting what we've always wanted. You're afraid I might not be fit to go back to the streets, so am I. I'm not quitting just yet, Blintz. Not without a fight." He extended his hand to the blond counterpart who took it into his and leaned forward and hugged his best friend gently.

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Nine months two weeks and three days later David Starsky was cleared for active duty and reinstated. Captain Harold Dobey and fellow detectives and staff toasted with fruit punch. "On behalf of Bay City PD and staff, we welcome you back, Starsky." The Captain and staff raised their plastic cups and sipped.

Minnie Kaplan entered the room with a cake and placed it on Starsky's desk. The brunet blushed from all the attention. "Go on handsome, give a speech and cut this cake. I made it just for you."

Starsky made eye contact with his partner who beamed. Starsky shuffled from one foot to the other with embarrassment. "Thank you. It's been a long road, and I couldn't have done it without all your support." Starsky raised his plastic cup filled with punch. "I'd like to toast all of you, Captain Dobey and the extravagant and beautiful, Minnie. I also want to toast my partner, Hutch. Without his support, devotion, and constant nagging I wouldn't be here."

Hutch blushed and widened his eyes. The toast was completed. The double doors to the squad room opened with Bernie waiving a slip of paper. "211 in progress on Maynard and 4th."

Captain Dobey placed his hand on Starsky's shoulder. "Are you ready, son?"

The color vanished from Hutch's face as he met his partne's fiery eyes of anticipation. "Are we ready, Hutch?" Starsky placed his hand on his partner's shoulder and squeezed.

The color returned to his face as he grinned. "What are we waiting for, partner?

Sides by side the partner's exit the room in a sprint. The Captain and Minnie watch in admiration. The room remained silent for a moment until, Starsky raced back into the room. He grabbed a knife and paper plate and cut a generous slice of cake.

"STARSKY?" The blond's voice echoes down the hall.

The brunet smiled with icing smudged on his face. "It's great to be back!" He rushed through the double doors.

The End.


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